


Before the Gypsy Ambush: chains that hold

by the_wretching



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 09:12:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13678683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wretching/pseuds/the_wretching
Summary: It was a nice Italian vacation while it lasted.





	Before the Gypsy Ambush: chains that hold

**Author's Note:**

> For Sparky.  
> For the LJ Valentine Challenge 2018.
> 
> I'm afraid the image expired which was the prompt for this Valentine's vignette. It was two arms holding hands. Something like a sunset behind.
> 
> Just in case you didn't pick up the couple references, this vignette is set the day before The Turbuf Affair begins. I wouldn't ordinarily be so explicit about setting, but some of the mood here depends, I think, on knowing what's coming, and visualizing the whole affair in black and white.

Illya reclined in his deck chair. Napoleon removed the camera from around his neck having just been reminded of its presence as he made to sit. Now his neck and head felt light. The martini in his hand would delightfully add to that sensation.

Illya was wearing his dark glasses and might have been pleasantly dozing in the Rome sun, if Illya were a person who was ever caught dozing. "Did you bring me a refill, Napoleon?" 

Napoleon handed the blond his own glass after a long appreciative taste. "Of course, Tovarisch. Anything else I can do to encourage your comfort?"

"I seem to have misplaced that 'voluminous tome' I was reading last night."

"Oh yes. Quantum Physics and Existential Dilemmas of Soufflé Baking for the Overly Educated Russian Agent in America and Abroad. I do believe I saw your oversized paperweight in the trashcan this morning." 

"Napoleon, Don Quixote is hardly exclusive. I hear they even print it in New York these days."

Napoleon seated himself in his deck chair beside Illya's and Illya handed him back the remaining third of the martini. Napoleon regarded the small quantity of liquid and savored small sips to extend the refreshment. 

"Where to tomorrow?" mused Napoleon after a moment of repose, "I'd like to find Vito's and I'll buy you the best _Veal Parmigiana_ you've ever had.

"Oh, I should like to see more of our hotel room. The linens are especially stimulating." 

Napoleon turned his head to his partner to smile at this thought, but Illya hadn't moved and his eyes were still well covered by his glasses. 

But he dropped his arm in Napoleon's direction and Napoleon took his hand in his own. And kept smiling.


End file.
